


Unexpected Strife

by pt_tucker



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Humor, M/M, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 10:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13522467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/pseuds/pt_tucker
Summary: There's one trooper too many.





	Unexpected Strife

**Author's Note:**

> Written for "Showing Up Unexpectedly" for Sefikura Week. Which is technically day one's prompt, but what even is being on time.
> 
> FYI, I'm writing Cloud as an adult in here. Also, there's obviously a power imbalance in their relationship that would be very worrying in real life, but which we're gonna pretend has no harmful consequences in fanfic land.

“General Sephiroth, Sir!”

Sephiroth glanced up from the map he’d been reviewing to find a SOLDIER Second approaching with five troopers in tow. He resisted the urge to sigh as they came to a stop. Every one of them might as well have been greeting the President himself for how perfectly straight their salutes were. 

No. Not every one.

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed as his gaze zeroed in on a short trooper in the back who was turned away ever-so-slightly. As if trying to hide.

“SOLDIER,” he answered, though his eyes never left the errant trooper. Though he couldn’t be certain, Sephiroth had a sneaking suspicion the man was refusing to meet his gaze behind the helmet he wore.

“SOLDIER Second Class Luxiere here with the requested reinforcements, Sir. I was told to report directly to you upon arrival, Sir.”

“I see.” Sephiroth considered the trooper for a moment longer before shifting his attention to the man in front of him. He held out his hand. “Papers.”

Luxiere blinked, and there was a split second in which it looked like he might have _forgotten_ his transfer papers, before he fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a crinkled form. Sephiroth held his tongue. It wasn’t the SOLDIER’s fault that he normally tossed anything handed to him directly into the trash upon receipt. Paperwork had no place on a battlefield. 

Except, apparently, when it did.

Scanning the order, Sephiroth counted two, four, _five_ names. He eyed the group of six.

Handing the paper back, he nodded. “Thank you. That will be all, SOLDIER. Report to First Class Richards.”

“Sir!” Luxiere gave him one final salute before jogging off in the wrong direction. Sephiroth didn’t bother to correct him.

“The rest of you-” The troopers stiffened, as if terrified he might run them through at the slightest hint of movement now that their Second Class shield had deserted them. “-report to Third Class Stanyu.”

“Sir!” They saluted him as one before pivoting on their heels and skittering away like frightened prey animals. One in particular looked as if he were waiting for Sephiroth to pounce.

Sephiroth allowed him to get a few meters away, just to allow him the cruel taste of relief, before calling out in a voice that sounded like honey but was made of wasps.

“Not you.”

The trooper froze. And then continued walking.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. “You are correct in assuming I will not have you court marshaled, but do not think you can walk away from me without spending the next seven days cleaning out the latrines.”

The trooper spun on his heel, marching back over with a determination that might have been admirable if not for how he refused to look up from the ground.

Sephiroth waited for him to stop moving before he yanked the helmet off his head. Bright blond spikes popped out at all angles.

“Cloud.”

“Sir.” The word came out mangled, as if Cloud couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Am I ‘Sir?’” Sephiroth asked coolly. 

“Yes Sir, General Sephiroth, Sir.” Cloud kept his eyes straight forward as he stared at Sephiroth’s chest.

“That’s good to know. I was beginning to wonder. You see, I recall giving orders that Private Strife was to be removed from this mission. And yet here you are.”

Cloud’s face twisted into something that might have been considered a respectful smirk, if such a thing existed. “Must have been a mix-up, Sir.”

“So it would seem.” Sephiroth sent a pair nearby Seconds a look, and the two of them hurried off before he could chastise them for eavesdropping on a superior’s conversation. The rest of the camp was at least pretending not to listen. 

“I assume that’s the conclusion you led Second Class Luxiere to when he questioned why he was leaving base with five troopers instead of four?” Sephiroth continued.

Cloud’s silence was answer enough.

They stayed like that, neither one of them willing to back down, but neither one of them willing to cause more of a scene than they already were, until finally Sephiroth sighed and motioned for Cloud to follow him. They made their way through the camp until they reached Sephiroth’s tent. Here, they would at least be granted the illusion of privacy.

“Cloud-”

“I don’t need special treatment.” Cloud’s back was ramrod straight as he glared at him with all of his 173 centimeters. Sephiroth fought the urge to be amused.

“It’s not special treatment.”

“It is! I was originally assigned to be deployed here, but you used your _influence_ to take me off the list. That can’t be any more ‘special treatment’ than if you’d stamped it directly on the transfer orders!”

“You are willfully ignoring the reason behind my decision.”

“Oh yeah. I’m so ‘distracting.’” Cloud rolled his eyes. “Well, am I _distracting_ you now?”

“Considering I’ve been with you for the past ten minutes instead of commanding my men, I would say you are,” Sephiroth replied dryly.

Cloud lost some of his steam at that. He kicked the tent bottom with the toe of his boot. Sephiroth frowned. He had to sleep in this tent for the foreseeable future. If some small creature managed to sneak it’s way in here because Cloud made a hole in the floor…

“You could have let me go. If you had better things to do.”

“I could have,” Sephiroth agreed. 

Cloud scowled at him, apparently not pleased with his answer. “I’ve been going on patrols for the past two years, sometimes by myself. And with your help and Zack’s, I’ll be a SOLDIER soon. You’re not planning on stopping me from taking dangerous missions _then,_ are you?”

Sephiroth was absolutely planning on doing exactly that.

“No,” he lied.

Cloud eyed him suspiciously. 

“When you are on patrol, there is nothing I can do to prevent you from being injured, save perhaps joining you each and every time. The infantry would not take kindly to me inserting myself into their affairs, as you can imagine.” 

Cloud snorted. “You can say that again.”

Sephiroth nodded. Despite their continued need to join forces, there existed something of a rivalry between the two departments. 

“Here, I am the commanding officer,” Sephiroth continued, “and as such, there _is_ something I can do. As a result, I will be constantly worried about your safety and will likely end up emphasizing your well-being over the well-being of the mission and your fellow soldiers. If-” Sephiroth hesitated. 

Cloud waited patiently, his baby blue eyes never leaving Sephiroth’s face. 

“If the enemy captured you, I would surrender.” 

The words were blunt. Perhaps too blunt, considering their current position and all of the dangers it held. But they worked. Cloud, finally, gave in. He plopped down onto Sephiroth’s bedroll and cupped his cheeks in his palms.

“There isn’t anything I can do here? What if I stayed in camp?”

“There’s nothing in camp that you would be inclined to enjoy.” The latrines really could use a good cleaning, but Sephiroth was not so annoyed with Cloud to assign him that particular task. 

“You sure about that?” Cloud asked, his eyelids fluttering as he glanced up at him. He made a show of leaning back onto his elbows and spreading his knees.

“Is this your new attempt at convincing me to let you stay?” Sephiroth asked, entirely unimpressed and unenticed.

“I don’t know. Is it working?” Cloud gave him a cheeky grin.

“No.”

Cloud shrugged. “Then I guess it isn’t.” He reached down and unzipped his pants. “You’d better get back to your men, General. Wouldn’t want me to continue to ‘distract’ you.” Cloud’s fingers dipped into the top of his waistband. 

Sephiroth’s lips quirked despite himself. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sounds of the camp. It was quiet, save for the occasional order from the Firsts he’d set up to lead in his stead, should he be…indisposed.

“Very well,” he said, unbuckling the front of his jacket, “I suppose I can spare a half hour.”

=================================================

“So, I’m to believe there was some paperwork mix-up?” Lazard asked, eyeing his copy of the transport papers, which very obviously did not include the name ‘Cloud Strife.’

Sephiroth inclined his head. “That is correct.”

Lazard did not look at all convinced. He closed the laptop in front of him and placed his hands on top of it. “To be perfectly honest, while I should investigate this further, I’m not going to. Reports are that morale skyrocketed after General Sephiroth ‘relieved some stress’ and proceeded to engage with his fellow SOLDIERs with never before seen camaraderie and goodwill.”

Sephiroth refused to acknowledge the look Cloud sent him. 

“One statement in particular was notable in its description, saying General Sephiroth was, and I quote, ‘very chill after he fucked that blond trooper.’”

Cloud shifted beside him.

“As such,” Lazard continued, “I’ve decided to chalk this ‘paperwork issue’ up to sound battle strategy. And that’s exactly how I’m going to explain it if anyone ever asks.” 

Sephiroth inclined his head, understanding his meaning. He had already been planning to take the blame if anyone ever looked deeper into Cloud’s unexpected arrival - and subsequent departure. 

“You’re dismissed.” Lazard waved towards the door. 

Cloud grinned once they were in the hallway. “Well, that could have gone worse.”

“Yes. We’re lucky Lazard cares more for results than regulations.”

“How about we go back to your place and celebrate?”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. “Celebrate the fact you weren’t court marshaled for disobeying a direct order and lying to multiple high-level personnel?”

“Well, when you put it that way, I want to celebrate even more.”

Sephiroth eyed him dubiously.

Cloud darted his gaze around the hallway before leaning in to whisper, “You can fuck me over your desk, if you want.”

Well. Sephiroth wasn’t about to say no to that.

=================================================

Lazard must have kept true to his word, because not a month later Sephiroth was approached about his ‘battle stress relief strategy’ by Heideggar, of all people. He’d barely managed to keep the horror off his face when the man had asked if he thought it would increase the productivity of all the SOLDIERs. Sephiroth had not.

Still, despite his insistence that getting a bunch of rambunctious, overly-energized super soldiers worked up was probably not in the best interests of the company, he honestly wasn’t that surprised when Angeal came to him asking why Fair had been assigned as his designated ‘stress relief’ and what the hell that even meant in the first place. Sephiroth denied all knowledge of everything. 

He was not, however, capable of denying knowledge of his own ‘stress relief,’ as was evidenced when Cloud was randomly assigned to accompany him to Mideel for a week. Apparently, prolonged missions away from home were deemed quite ‘stressful.’ 

Cloud hummed a self-satisfied tune all the way to the southern continent.

Sephiroth made him clean the latrines.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked it! I feel like it came out a little rusty, since I haven't written in a while, and I don't often write this pairing to begin with, but hopefully not too rusty.


End file.
